Things We Never Said
by StarWalker42
Summary: Daryl and Rick finally have room to breathe in Alexandria, time to come to terms with what they've found thanks to the apocalypse. Maybe some things aren't best left unsaid. A Rickyl fic in three parts, with hints of Richonne and Caryl. Rated T for language.
1. Daryl

Summary: In Alexandria, the new world is surprisingly normal. It's almost like the walkers aren't there. Finally having room to breathe, members group come to terms with what they've found thanks to the apocalypse. A Rickyl fic in three parts, with hints of Richonne and Caryl.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead or any of its characters/ locations. This is for fun, because god knows this is never actually going to happen in the series.

A/N: This is my first Walking Dead fic, which I never thought would happen- I was certain I'd never start writing about these guys. But my brain hasn't listened and has given me this instead. As you can probably guess from the summary, I can't decide who I ship, so I basically just love them all. Season 7 is going to kill me. Leaving a review if you read would be awesome! (Also I should be starting a multi-chapter Star Wars fic, soon. I promise.) Rated T for quite a lot of swearing.

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 **Things We Never Said**

 _'Because what's worse than knowing you want something,_

 _besides knowing you can never have it?'_

 _-James Patterson_

Rick isn't gay. I know that. I can't _not_ know it. He's the straightest guy I've ever met, and Merle Dixon was my brother.

Plus I think he has a thing against Tara, and it's not just her working with the governor. The rest of us have got over it- Maggie trusts her, so there's no real reason for him to dislike her anymore. He probably hates the idea of two girls getting it on. Or two guys. I need to stop this- Rick's married, for cryin' out loud. He still wears the ring. Something tells me Lori's the only person he's ever fucked. He's probably never even thought of doing it with a guy.

He's definitely _not gay_.

But does he know I am? Does he know I ... shit. This is gonna get me killed. Thinking about anything other than survival, what you need to do _right now_ , gets you killed in this world. But maybe that's not how it works in Alexandria. Maybe that's why all the other stuff's rushing in now.

Carol's managed to get me into the kitchen, even though I've already told her I don't know shit about cooking. Plus I'm looking after Judith while Carl goes to see his friends, so I've got an excuse. Carl gets annoyed when I call her L'il Ass Kicker now, but I can't help it. I'll probably still be calling her that when she's all grown up, if I live that long. Rick doesn't seem to mind it, anyway.

"Daryl, hand me a spoon, will you?"

I shift Judith into my other arm to pass one over to Carol. She pauses and looks at me for a moment, then goes back to the hob.

"I was just thinking that we should have a party," she says. "I can't remember the last time we celebrated anyone's birthday."

I don't bother mentioning I've never had a birthday party, even when I was a kid. I don't even recognise it as a special day.

"Birthdays don't exist no more."

"Well, they should." She replies firmly. "For Carl and Judith, at least."

"I don't even know what date it is. I got no idea when she was born." I'm getting angry and I shouldn't be. It's not Carol's fault I'm here right now, looking after Rick's baby, thinking about how damn good he looks without his beard. "And if we have parties in here, we have to have 'em out there, too."

"What makes you think we're going out there again?"

Sometimes I wonder if Carol's who I thought she was, or if this side of her is who she really is. It makes me sick when she smiles at everyone here, acting like she's one of them. _You saw your own daughter get shot down in front of you, Christ's sakes_.

Everyone else is having that problem, too: Alexandria brings you back to who you were, before. Everyone's changing, even Judith. She's started crying like a proper kid now we're away from the walkers. I feel just the same as I've always been.

"We won't go out there again, Daryl." Carol says quietly. "Rick won't let them kick us out."

"What about the walkers?"

"We'll deal with them. We always do."

 _Yeah, and we always lose people_ , I want to reply, but I know that's not fair. We can't help it. It's just what happens now. People die. We go quiet again and she throw something into the pan.

I don't know what she's cooking, but it smells incredible. I forgot what actual food tasted like. Burnt snake or tree bark or something became the norm, and now we're back to proper meals it's like I'm hallucinating. They make _pasta_ here, bread. Eating meat after Terminus still makes we wanna puke, but here I don't even need to.

There's a lot of stuff I don't have to worry about here.

"I like Rick."

I speak without meaning to, like I've completely forgotten Carol's there. I don't know why. I've never even allowed myself to think that before, and now I've told her it feels worse. Like something's rotting inside me.

"I'm not saying I don't. Rick got us here. He's our leader. If he makes wrong decisions sometimes... well, that's what any of us would do."

"No. I mean-" I want to tell her. If can't tell Carol, I'll never be able to tell anyone else. I drop my head and let my hair fall into my face. "I _like_ Rick."

Silence. Please don't make me repeat it again.

"Is that it?"

 _It_?

"Is that all you needed to say?"

I was expecting her to laugh at me, or freak out and yell, or start calling me the names I call myself everyday in my head. I wasn't expecting this. She's making it seem like it's nothing.

"Yeah."

"I already knew that," she turns off the gas and starts spooning the food into a dish. "You don't hide it very well."

I freeze in fear. Carol knows. How long has she known? I never even told anyone I was gay until Aaron a few days back- has he told her? God, what if the others know too? How long has everyone been assuming stuff like this? What if-

"Does Rick know?"

Carol laughs. "I doubt it. He's not the best at subtlety, either."

"He can't know, okay?"

She places the lid on the dish and opens the oven. I have to raise my eyes to normal level to avoid meeting her gaze.

"Why not?"

Judith babbles in my arms, like she's reinforcing Carol's question. I can't believe we're having this conversation, that she's just asked me that, like it's not the most obvious thing in the world.

"Because he's not... he's not like that, damnit." My face is getting hot. I wish Carol would shut the oven. "I don't want to fuck things up. We just got here."

"You've known him all this time, Daryl. You really think you'd mess something up?"

"Yeah, I do."

Rick's more to me than anyone has been before. I love him like he's part of me, like I wouldn't know what to do if he wasn't here. Merle wasn't the best example of a brother, I'll give him that, but I don't think of Rick as a brother. He's definitely more than just family- I'm not stood here blushing about Glenn or Abraham, after all. Rick's probably my first friend. If this all ends, I never want to leave his side. I don't think I can.

But this could destroy it. He'd want to get rid of me, and I wouldn't blame him. I've been hiding this for so long that I can't let it go just like that.

Carol finally closes the oven and sets the timer. She squeezes my hand.

"The world might completely change tomorrow. All we've got is right now- and that's too precious to waste."

I don't move as she takes Judith from me. I hear her go out onto the porch, probably going to see someone with the baby. My hands are shaking, and not just because I can still feel Carol's hand in mine. I grip the worktop in an attempt to stop them.

What the hell's wrong with me?

Carol's voice keeps going through my mind as I try to stay steady. I try to make it shut up. I don't need anyone else telling me what to do right now. Why did I tell her? What happens if she tells Rick? _Daryl Dixon, if you start crying, you are leaving this place right now._

I watch the timer start to tick down. 90 minutes. 89. 88. 87...

God.

This place is making me go crazy.


	2. Rick

A/N: Rick POV this time! I just watched The Next World and it's killed me, so there's that. Fanfiction's deleted this twice already, but I've managed to get it down finally and I figured I might as well post it now. A word about a word or two- it may be offensive to some readers, but I promise I don't mean it that way (I'm bi, and I hate the word), I think it adds to the point I'm trying to make. I hope people are enjoying!

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Daryl Dixon isn't gay. I know that. I can't _not_ know it. He's the straightest guy I know. He's the stereotypical redneck of the entire group- from his accent to his stupid vest, and he probably hates even thinking about two guys getting it on. He and Merle probably used to beat gay guys up everyday at school.

Not that I am gay, exactly... I'm just really, really desperate to kiss him.

That hasn't happened since high school. Since Lori came along I've figured it was just a phase. Despite what passing thoughts I had about Shane. God, what would _he_ think about this? Now, if anything, I'm thinking Lori- women in general- was a phase. What I feel for Daryl has me questioning if I actually loved Lori, or if I just thought I did.

I miss Hershel. I miss him more than I miss anyone lese, I think. He was always calm, and made sense of stuff, and he sure as hell didn't deserve this life. I feel like I'd be able to talk to him about this. I need to talk to _someone_.

Maggie, maybe. She's got the same listening ear, the same level head as her dad, and I've known her long enough. But she's with Deanna almost all of the time, and I wouldn't know how to put it into words, anyway. It's the same with almost everyone else. I trust them with my life, and I'd do anything to keep them safe... but this feels so incredibly personal that I can't imagine telling anyone apart from those closest to me. I wouldn't dream of telling Carl. Glenn would listen, but I don't know how he could help. Carol spends so much time with Daryl it would be hard to see her alone. And since Daryl is obviously out of the question, that leaves one person.

I've been trying to summon the words all morning, but every time start a sentence in my mind I cross it out immediately after. Now I'm sat on the porch, waiting, part of me hoping that Michonne doesn't come back from her patrol so I don't have to talk to her at all.

No luck.

"Hi."

"Hey," I glance at her then look away again. "Everything okay?"

"Fine. I was talking to Reg, just seeing if we can reinforce the walls more."

"You think we need to?"

"Wouldn't hurt."

I with her on that- we're surrounded by walls, with no walkers, enough food, and plenty of ammo. I'm worried we're going to get complacent. Even if there isn't any immediate danger, I think we learnt our lesson at the prison.

We sit in silence for a while, eating the sandwiches Carol made for us this morning. It reminds me of the breaks Shane and I used to take when we were on duty. Michonne never knew Shane- does she even know about him? It makes me suddenly sad as I realise how many lives have entered and suddenly left mine: Dale, T-Dog, Andrea, Hershel, Beth, Tyresse... it just keeps going. How many people has Michonne lost, since it began? Or Abraham, or Tara, or the people here at Alexandria?

"Rick?"

"What?"

"What's wrong?"

We never used to ask that, outside. Maybe it was too self-explanatory. Why is it now, when we begin to sink back into normality, that those kind of questions come up again?

"I want to tell you something."

She doesn't say anything, but I can tell she's looking at me. Watching me for some kind of sign. It's what she does best.

"I know you never met Lori. But you know about her, and you know that I loved her, right?" I don't wait for her reply. "I thought I loved her, at least. Now I don't know, because..."

"What are you trying to say?"

I pause. "I feel like I'm betraying my wife."

Michonne laughs very rarely. This isn't one of the occasions where she lets one slide- the only indication I get that she's amused is a slight chuff of air from my left.

"How?"

There. Someone's asked. Here's my chance to explain, to say what I need to, what I want to, and finally get it out there, however crazy it sounds. But I can't. I don't know how, or how to put it. I can't exactly say, 'In your opinion, is Daryl Dixon attractive?', or 'I think Daryl's hair is really cute, I hope he doesn't cut it.' Shit. It even sounds stupid in my head.

"It's..." I lean back and cover my face with my hands, trying to supress a sigh. "I really like Daryl."

Silence, and I've barely even scratched the surface. I don't carry on. How do you say to someone that they're one of the only things that keep you going sometimes? Because what I feel for Daryl, it's like that with Michonne too, sometimes. I don't want to lose anyone in the group, of course I don't, but I can't even consider losing either of them. Maybe this is what happens when you start to go crazy. You attach to someone to the point where you can't let them go. Ever.

"And you feel like this is betraying Lori somehow?"

"I... I don't know. It's just, I, I loved Lori- I did- but what I feel for Daryl is more, somehow. It's deeper." I manage to look at her, but her face is impassive as always. "Does that make any sense?"

She smiles. "Yes. It does."

She takes a long drink of water, her forehead creased in thought. Eventually she lowers the bottle and turns back to me.

"I can't tell you what to do, Rick."

But I need her to. I need someone to just grab me and tell me how I feel and what I'm going to do about it, because I don't have a clue. I've never felt so helpless in my life, even when I woke up in the hospital. At least then I knew what I had to do, and I had an aim. I don't have that now. I don't even know what I want.

"Maybe Daryl likes you back."

 _Or maybe he'd kill me for being a faggot. Either way._ I can see it now, Daryl's reaction if I tell him, swearing and punching me until I can't get back up. Raining abuse down on me as I lie on the ground bleeding. Just like that, our friendship, our entire group, torn apart. Not that I wouldn't blame him, if he chose to do that. Maybe Michonne sees it in my face, because her voice turns soft.

"Hey. Daryl's a good guy."

"You didn't know him before the prison."

"No, I didn't. But I knew Merle, and I know what someone like that can do to a person."

For a fleeting moment, I let myself imagine what I wish would happen. Daryl smiling (he never smiles) and nodding a little, saying he feels the same way. My hand in his, running through his hair, before I can hold him close and press my lips against his. Just the thought of it makes me go dizzy. But it's just a fantasy, just another dream of something better, the kind we can't have anymore. The alternative's easier to think about.

"Rick."

Michonne reaches out to take my hand. I almost jump at the contact.

"Daryl's not like that, not anymore."

It's not said like that's the end of our conversation, but then she get up and has a last drink of water. She hands the bottle to me as I squint up at her. For a moment it seems like she's going to say something, but then she just offers me a half smile and heads off. I get up so quickly I almost fall off the steps.

"What would you do?"

She stands still for a moment, then turns around. I look her right in the eyes, even though I don't really expect an answer. She's as hard to read as ever, but I stop trying when she matches my gaze and says, clearly and with certainty, "I'd tell him."

I barely even notice her walk off.

 _I'd tell him. I'd tell him. Tell him._

Tell him.


End file.
